


Slip Slop Slap

by lupisashes



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, lecherous thoughts, prompt fills, rating's to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupisashes/pseuds/lupisashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt responses from tumblr. </p><p>5: Aichirou swims, Rin helps him out.<br/>6: Rei organises Valentines Day.<br/>7: Mako and Haru have to go home eventually.</p><p>Characters/Pairings will be added as they come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MakoHaru - Chin

**Author's Note:**

> Asked for pairing+body part prompts. (Still taking them~)
> 
> Anon: "MakoHaru. Chin."

Summer’s stifling in Haru’s house. The humidity’s unbearable as Makoto lounges in front of the little, blue desk fan Haruka had set up for him on the floor. He’d originally been upright, waiting as Haru put a jug of ice-cold water together. Makoto hadn’t remained so for long.

He’d realised too late that he shouldn’t have stripped down to his underwear. Makoto’s stretched flat on his stomach, a melting glob of cheese sat out in the sun too long, his sweat plastering him to the wooden floorboards beneath him. But he’s there now, and the fan blowing in his face, mussing his brown hair, feels heavenly and Makoto’s not at all inclined to exert what little energy he’s managed to retain on moving.

Makoto sighs, his pink cheek squeaking against now damp wood; it’s hot.

He’s almost dozing when he hears the sharp clink of glass against ice, then Haru’s soft, sticky steps as he plods quietly into the room. Makoto doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even have the energy to twitch, but Haru knows he’s alive and pours him a glass before settling himself with his legs crossed on the floor.

He’s leaning against the wall, glass held in two hands and up against his chest. The condensation gathers around his fingers, and Makoto can’t help but watch as a particularly adventurous durge of water finds its way between Haru’s nimble fingers and races hazardous line down to his elbow. Haru doesn’t blink when it drops into his swimmer clad lap.

“You should drink some, Haru.” He can’t help but say, as the minutes pass them by, “We don’t want you to dehydrate.” He smiles kindly, though he knows Haru can pick up the teasing tone to his voice.

He’d found Haru in a cold bath when he’d arrived that morning. His hands, so much smaller than Makoto’s own shovels, had been wrinkled and white, looking more like wet tissue paper than the skin of a highschooler. Apparently he’d slept there overnight.

“So should you.” Haru eventually replies, with the tall glass pressed to his bottom lip.

“Hold the glass for me?”

Haru regards him with an unimpressed stare that makes Makoto chuckle. His eyes widen then, as Haru leans forward. He curls his legs under him just as he grasps Makoto’s glass and swiftly, unceremoniously dumps the water over the back of Makoto’s shoulders.

It’s like someone stabbed him and he yelps like it too. It’s not the most dignified noise and Makoto feels his cheeks flush even more as Haru’s cool gaze regards him. Makoto fights against curling up as he attempts to get over the sudden cold against heated skin. Then his eyes are open and watching carefully as Haru leans to adjust the fan so it’s pointed up and is blowing a heavenly breeze over Makoto’s shoulders.

Then Makoto is laughing quietly as Haru straddles him, strong thighs framing his own. It’s a position they’re very familiar with. With Makoto splayed beneath Haru as Haru settles himself across Makoto’s broad back, sucking at the water pooling between his shoulder blades, before he’s scorching Makoto with his own tanned skin. Makoto knows he’s settled when his chin rests at the junction between Makoto’s shoulder and neck. Haru’s hands trace along Makoto’s fore-arms until he can grasp loosely at his broader hands. The taller boy squeezes them tight for just a second, before loosening his grip, their fingers like limp noodles in a pot. 

It’s hot, and Makoto feels like he’s being cooked slowly. They’re both too sticky, the air is too hot, stifling, and perhaps this is one of those times when Haru will let him join him in the bath?

Still, Makoto thinks with another sigh, his attention trained on the mildly painful way Haru is digging his chin into his shoulder, he’ll be sure to enjoy this for as long as that pitcher contains water and ice. 


	2. NagiRei - Toes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [epilepsysprinkles](epilepsysprinkles.tumblr.com): Obviously I want NagiRei it's no surprise really but yeah, uh, body part... Toes! I want toes :3 Good luck and have fun with that, I'll wait :3

Rei’s ticklish, Nagisa finds out soon after he starts ‘officially’ dating the boy. When he has ‘official’ permission to touch Rei’s trim waist and skim his hands over ribs, and wrap his arms around Rei’s neck. When he’s allowed to press as close as humanly possible when they’re watching a movie, and when they start sleeping together, beneath blankets, on the floor, on the train or on top of one another.

He doesn’t mean to press and prod in all these instances. Rei is very careful with his affection and Nagisa has learnt when to say enough is enough. However, Nagisa admits he’s very affectionate and physical when it comes to his friends, like an excited puppy (minus the drool and lolling tongue). He’ll climb and cling and lick (Rei alone gets this treatment, and he’d done it a total of once outside of the safety of their bedrooms). It’s purely by accident that he learns where on his Butterfly’s body make him twitch and squeak.

He only aims for Rei’s ribs when he’s being a particularly effective kill-joy.

Still, despite Rei’s flustering and blustering as Nagisa navigates him into a relationship where Rei eventually initiates Public Displays of Affection, even if it’s a simple hand to the small of his back - they kiss a lot. Nagisa can’t help himself, especially with the cute way Rei gasps before he gets into it each time. Just a slight hitch in breath, as though he’s surprised Nagisa still wants to. As if Nagisa’s just shouted ‘surprise!’ and showed him something spectacular. The thought makes Nagisa feel fuzzy and warm, as if he’s just swallowed a kitten and it’s curled up and purring in his chest.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Nagisa’s adorable Rei-chan reacts to tickling as though someone is prodding him with a hot poker.

Different parts of that strong body get different and varying reactions. His ribs earn the blonde boy gasps and a bit of squirming. Rei’s underarms and the backs of his knees aren’t very ticklish at all, though poking at them makes him get that cute ‘I just bit down on a lemon’ look. His neck – well, that is a rather flip-floppy area, depending on the mood. Either Rei will sigh and groan, or gasp and flinch. But the most bothersome area Nagisa has discovered on his explorations he only ever manages to aggravate whilst curled up in bed together. As though Nagisa’s just poured ice-cold water over Rei, Rei jumps with the even the slightest ghost of a touch to his feet.

“It’s alright, Rei,” Nagisa whispers one night, as he slips his hand under the other boy’s penguin covered pyjama shirt, to soothingly rub at his back. He’d only been getting comfortable when his big toe had traced the outline of Rei’s little one.

They’re both knackered after a particularly gruelling training session, muscle and bone like jelly beneath their skin, but Rei still finds the energy to hiss, “Your toes are cold!”

“They want yours to cuddle them and warm them up!”

“No!!”

They fidget. Nagisa’s elbowed in the collarbone, returning that with a knee to the back as Nagisa whines and pulls the blankets tighter around them. Soon enough Rei is facing the wall, with Nagisa plastered to his back. He’s running smaller feet against Rei’s hairless calves, dragging his leg over Rei’s defined hip as he searches for that ever elusive warmth in his toes. His arms and hands are cosy, at least, entwined around Rei’s torso, nimble fingers laced.

He presses his nose to the back of Rei’s neck and  _breathes_. They’d both showered when they’d reached Rei’s. The scent of vanilla mashed with orchids coats his nose, makes him sigh and hum and grin, pressing a fond kiss to the back of one of Rei’s shoulders. He nuzzles close, letting Rei’s slowing breath lull him to sleep. His limbs still, going lax, fingers still tied together and his foot gliding down Rei’s leg so it bumps over his ankle and lays snug against the side of his foot.

It takes moments for their soft snores to be the only thing heard coming from that bedroom. It’s only then that Rei allows for thin, long toes to press to his and ‘cuddle’ as Nagisa had so enthusiastically put it, with them. But beneath the thick doona, whilst they're deep in slumber, how are either to know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe with all my heart that Rei is Little Spoon...
> 
> Thanks for reading and the kudos! :D
> 
> Feel free to give me prompts! I'll do my best!


	3. NitoRin - Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon: "legs, rintori"

Rin decides very quickly that he doesn’t like jeans. Not on Aichirou. Nor does he like sweatpants or tights. Particularly the shiny kind. Stockings are open for debate, but those utterly ridiculous frilly  _abominations_ they’d had to wear that one time are so out they might as well have been launched into the stratosphere. He fucking  _hates_  Ai in trousers and tuxedo pants – or whatever the hell they’re called.

Shorts though… Aichirou in shorts is a cause Rin can totally get behind.

”Senpai –  _Rin_  – aren’t they a little-”

Rin ears twitch, listening as his boyfriend fidgets behind the changing room door. He can just see him, attempting to pull the little pair of denim shorts Rin had grabbed for him further down his pale thighs without showing off any of his cute butt.

“- Aren’t they a little  _small_? _”_

“Dunno.” Rin grumbles, a smirk flirting with the corners of his lips, “You haven’t shown me yet.”

“I can’t come out in these!”

“Then let me in.”

Aichirou’s quiet mutterings make him smirk, showing off sharp teeth. Rin adores teasing him. He hopes he’ll get that huffy, arms folded thing going once he’s inside. Perhaps cock his hip and straighten those slim legs of his? Or perhaps spread them, shoulder-width apart and plant small hands on his hips? Either way, Rin knows he’ll be seeing leg and hell can’t stop him from slipping inside and having a look.

But Aichirou’s gone quiet. Rin can’t even hear his breath. He turns so his ear’s pressed to the door, bringing a broad hand up to knock lightly, “Ai? Did you hear me?”

“Y-Yes! But really, there’s nothing to see. They don’t suit me at all! So please don’t worry yourself!” There’s renewed shuffling, quiet thudding and cursing just as Ai says through the door, “I’m just going to get changed, senpai!”

“No!”

It’s out before Rin has any chance of catching it, barked through the door as if he were a whiny, spoilt pup. He presses his palm to the door – this had been the only thing he’d been looking forward to today! Other than spending time with Ai, of course. But shopping really wasn’t his thing, particularly when he’d followed just to keep an eye on that perverted captain of his and his little sister (who were off talking about ninja turtles or some such on the other side of the store. Rin was sure nothing untoward would happen. Not with all those screaming kids around). Though more on the captain. The mere thought of getting Ai into a pair of shorts though – especially with summer right round the bend – it had been the only star amongst the blackness.

“C’mon, Ai. One peek? I’m sure they’re nowhere near as bad as you think.”

“It’s not really appropriate for you to be in here with me, Rin…”

He huffs. He counts to 10. Rin’s been learning how to control his temper, and this is something he’ll just have to respect Ai on. After all, it wasn’t like Rin had wanted to leave his little cubicle during the maid cafe incident and if Ai’s feeling anywhere near as embarrassed as he did then, he won’t push any more.

But he will mourn.

He just finishes whispering 9 when the change room’s door slips the tiniest bit open and one brightly coloured eye peeks around.

“You promise you won’t laugh?”

Rin can’t help but smile the tiniest bit, “Never.”

Ai doesn’t utter a single thing more, simply backs away and pulls the door open a smidgen more. Rin squeezes himself through, kicking at discarded tops and pants thrown haphazardly on the floor. It’s like Aichirou’s desk all over again, minus the family heirlooms. Rin sighs.

It catches in his throat in the next instant, when ruby red eyes glance up to  _finally_  see his boyfriend’s outfit. It’s all he’d imagined and more. Something he’s sure is seared into his memory forever.

“Rin? Are you alright?”

He’d changed back into the dark shirt he’d worn out this morning. It’s blue, with the slightest hints of yellow around the collar and covers half the item Rin’s really here to see. His watch is still ticking away, silver and small around his tiny wrist. Aichirou’s hair is a mess though; he hadn’t gotten around to fixing it after he’d changed.

But it’s the pale spill of long legs that captures Rin’s full attention. They’re topped off beautifully by denim shorts that finish halfway down his thighs, in much the same way those purple and yellow swimming shorts do (and holy hell, does Rin love those shorts!). This isn’t the same as those baggy shorts Rin does appreciate, but hates all the same. These are shorts that – as Rin steps closer and motions for a fidgety, blushing, nervous Aichirou to turn around, to let him see properly – Rin realises outline his pert butt perfectly, without being overly tight. That dig into slender thighs just the right amount as Ai moves, but release them when he’s still, flaring out the tiniest bit near the bottom. That sit just right on Ai’s hips.

But those legs-!

Ai’s calves are just there for Rin to see, to watch relax and tense, as Ai walks. Rin loves the shape of them, the dips and curves of slender legs that hold enough strength to kick for hours at a time. His ticklish knees aren’t hidden behind pants, but rather right there in front of Rin. If they were sitting down, he’d actually be able to hold onto it and feel soft skin, rather than scratchy cotton. If they were to grab something to eat, Rin could slip off the thongs he’s got hanging hazardously off his own feet and curl it around a slim ankle and enjoy the warmth of the skin there. He could let a his toes tickle down that lovely calf to play with Aichirou’s own, or send them brushing up, up,  _up_ , until he finally felt denim and Aichirou was flushed and smiling, equal parts enamoured with his antics and incredulous because they were  _in public_. He especially loves when they’re wrapped tight around his waist, thighs tensing under Rin’s broad hands as they pant and -

“Um… Rin?”

Aichirou turns back around to face him and Rin would swear he’s exaggerating the slight sway to his hips even the tiniest bit. He hardly takes notice of the slow to bloom realisation that spreads across Aichirou’s pink face.

“You like them that much?”

He manages a nod.

Fuck, he loves Ai’s legs. 


	4. MakoHaru - Hair Washing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [debubblizer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/debubblizer/pseuds/debubblizer): "If you're alright with suggestions, I'm an absolute sucker for some MakoHaru non-smut bubble baths and/or hair washing :)"

"And then Ran decided she wanted to paint. She spilt them, getting them down from the cupboard, though how she'd managed that I have no idea... She also painted over the table, which is why you had a blue - actually, I'm not sure what it is," Mako laughs breathlessly, easing further into the tub with a sigh, "It kind of reminds me of you. All frowny." 

The hands lathering his hair pause and despite being only half awake he catches Haru's slight, unamused huff. It makes Makoto chuckle again. He smiles, tilting his head back, easing a hand out of the steaming water to drag a thumb over Haru's almost-pouting lips, "Don't be like that. We both know we can count the number of times Ren and Ran have seen you smile on one hand." 

The faintest kiss presses against his thumb, before Haru is once again concentrating on the conditioner in his hair. 

Makoto was hardly awake under Haruka's hands, his arm flops back down, splashing water over them and into his own face. He giggles. Soon he's almost groaning as Haru's fingers dig deep into his hair, flipping between scrubbing and massaging his scalp, easing the tension from his temples, then the top of his head and soon the back as well. He is practically laid flat in the tub, his head resting back on Haru's tummy. His legs are folded carelessly, loose and slipping against the wall at the other end of the tub, reminding Makoto once again that the tub wasn't made for two nowhere near fully grown boys. But Makoto doesn't dare move, even with the slight ache starting to poke at his neck; the water is warm, Haru's legs frame his body and act like arm rests beside him (his skin was smooth beneath his hands, as Mako grasped them and his thumbs stroked lean calves absently). Haru was the perfect pillow, breathing soundly behind him, breath steady no matter how Makoto fidgetted beneath his attentions. No matter what he spoke of. His hands are like the touch of God upon Makoto's aching head. 

The twins had been monster's that day. He hurt  _everywhere_. Makoto isn't sure where they'd found the energy, but with Haru out with Rin for the day he'd found himself watching his baby siblings on his own. He'd forgotten how much trouble they could get into without two sets of eyes watching them, how much work it was to keep them out of trouble and amused. Particularly since they both seemed rather adament that Haru's place was with them and Makoto, not some "demon" with bright red hair and a toothy grin that promised death to all that angered him. Makoto at one stage could have sworn he'd heard Ren regalling his sister with stories of sharks possessed by demons that grew legs and walked around, eating all that angered them.

Another smile breaks out on his face; he's going to have to have a talk with Ren and his stories; he doesn't need Ran scared for her safety again. But his imagination is something to be admired...  

He sighs again, shifting as Haru's hands slip from his hair to squeeze gently at the juncture where his neck and shoulders meet. Sitting up is an exercise Makoto isn't sure he can complete, even as he heaves himself up and fidgets to let Haru extract his legs and kneel behind him. He has to basically plaster his arms along the edge of the tub to stay upright, humming with delight as Haru eases him back against him again.

"You're tense."

"I ended up climbing onto the roof to get a ball down for the twins. I don't know how it got up there - I only blinked - but you know how they are. But, Haru," Makoto gasps as strong fingers squeeze his shoulders, thumbs easing along the road that curls around each of Makoto's shoulder blades. He targets a spot just below one, making Makoto arch up with a relieved cry, "H-Haru, how was your day? Did you have fun?"

He tries to focus on other things other than Haru's hands. Tries to keep himself from melting under talented touches. It's difficult, but he keeps track of Haru's softly spoken words. Words he can hear warmth and love in. Makoto's glad Rin is back. He's glad he's brought Haru happiness, allowed him peace.

He speaks of how they'd simply walked along the beach, Haru with his bare feet in the water, Rin with shirt off and threats of pushing Haru in amongst the waves should he keep answering Rin's questions with grunts and glares and frown-frowns. Smile-frowns had been had though, if anything Rin had told him was true, as Haru had gotten changed that afternoon. They'd enjoyed ice-cream, talked about the future...

"Rin likes Nitori."

It's spoken without any fanfare, as if Haru were commenting on the state of the tiles around them, his tone carefully even, despite the approval Makoto thinks he can feel thrumming through those fingers. His hands have remained steady throughout his tale, careful of Makoto's sorest spots.

"I don't think he realises."

"Oh?"

"Hm."

He'll ask about that later, Makoto decides, as Haru presses down into a particularly snazzled bundled of nerves that make him jump and gasp and grasp at his own knees. Haru continues on, easing before hammering at it again, and soothing the ache with gentle swipes of his hand. It feels like it's been an eternity when Haru once again has him lean forward, and adjusts himself down into a sitting position again.

He doesn't wait for Haru's hands to pull him back, rather dropping himself back against his partner once his legs frame him once again. Makoto rolls, as best he can tucking his legs up, before stretching one up and over the side of the tub. He's basically tucked into Haru's chest, shoulder snug under Haru's arm as the teen pets his hair. 

"Mmmm, Haru..." He mumbles, emerald eyes falling closed as he tucks his head under Haru's chin, "You spoil me."

Haru doesn't reply, not that that surprises the taller boy. Makoto chuckles to himself. Happy. Content. He could stay here forever...

"Makoto." 

"Mmm?"

"Let's go to bed."

His words are slurred, "Wash my hair out first? I can't move."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a soft spot for domestic fluff.


	5. Nitorin - Help

His earliest memories feature his family; his older brothers lifting him above their heads, tossing him into waves, flailing, giggling and shrieking with glee. Aichirou could swim before he could walk, or so his mother keeps fondly telling him whenever he tells her with stories from swimming practice. His siblings agree, telling tales of his pudgy limbs flailing as they dipped him in and out of the water. Apparently he cried every time they left that beach up until he was three. But even so, with snot running down his face and tears, he'd waddle to keep up, or get someone to run for him.

They live close to that beach - just up the road and around the bend. Their little town is quiet, green, tidy. They get a cool breeze that tickles Aichirou's nose with the smell of the sea, that ruffles his hair as though welcoming family home.

He misses home.

Aichirou fondly remembers his brothers' taunts, as they raced with long legs, feet pounding on the concrete. He could never beat them, his legs were shorter (he's taken after their mother) than he'd ever liked. But they'd had fun. Even when they'd poke and prod and push him into the waves.

He carries those memories with him. He hangs them around his neck, and takes them out when he's feeling down. His brothers still beat him, much like Rin-senpai does now, when they race. He has no stamina for quick bursts of speed and energy, it eats at his reserves as though his body is starving.

But Aichirou has endurance.

He swims continuously for hours some afternoons, when Rin-senpai is upset and his mood seeps into Aichirou's marrow, weighing him down like an anchor. He can't stand seeing his senpai upset, and it eats at him knowing he can't do anything to help ease the hurt that plagues his friend – and he most definitely is a friend. On good days, Rin is downright lovely when he wants to be. They've talked; he knows of Rin's old friends (the ones from Iwatobi) and of his family, his expectations and goals for himself... Rin is ambitious in ways Aichirou can only dream of being. But Aichirou doesn't want to go to the Olympics with his swimming. He supposes that's the biggest difference between himself and Rin. 

He starts off slow, getting a feel for the water and letting his muscles loosen. Five minutes in and he'll start to speed up, start to count the seconds it takes for him to make it from one side of the pool to the other. Then he'll push himself just a bit faster, until he imagines he's making quite a bit of noise and his heart is hammering against his ribs and his lungs ache. He knows to try for a speed just a bit faster than what he did last time. Once Aichirou's found it (and he knows he has, when he finds himself struggling to keep up the rhythm he builds) he sticks with it, keeps count subconsciously, as his mind flutters and dashes to different places.

Rin is much better than he had been before regionals. With his friendship with the Iwatobi team renewed, they seem to have injected him with renewed vigour not just for swimming, but life as well. He hangs out with his sister now, actually staying for a movie and a meal. He also goes out with the Iwatobi team, inviting Aichirou along when he does. They're sweet people, and good for Rin in ways Ai (it's 'Ai' a lot now and it makes his feel warm and welcome in ways he's not felt outside of his family before) just can't be. They _know_ him. Aichirou's still learning.

He finds it hard sometimes though, knowing he can't help Rin the way he needs it. He can provide space, he can lend Rin his ears and he'd offer his shoulder without a moment's hesitation should Rin even hint at needing it. He wants to be closer to Rin. He doesn't want to _just_ be senpai and kohai, and it's something he's known for a long time now. He _loves_ Rin, and he knows that Rin doesn't feel the same way for him – not yet, should he ever – but he will endure. He wants to _help_ Rin now, first and foremost.

His lungs feel like they're burning when he finally slows to a stop, giving the wall at the end of the pool a gingerly tap. His arms and legs feel as though they've been replaced with weights connected to his torso with loose jelly tubes. He _aches_ , but it's good. It's an accomplishment only he will know of. It distracts him and shouts that he's done good. If he'd counted right he'd have been swimming for an hour or so.

Aichirou can't help but float for a few moments. He breathes deep, his hurting lungs grateful and grumpy at the same time for the extra air. He wedges off his swimming cap and yanks off his goggles. He can't help but smile to himself; Rin-senpai would be proud of his efforts.

“You ever going to get out of the pool?”

Aichirou jumps. He flails, choking on water and coughing so hard he thinks he'll dislodge his heart.

“R-Rin-senpai!” He rasps, eventually, whilst clinging to the edge of the pool, face red, “I-I didn't see you there!”

Rin snorts, dragging his feet a bit as he comes close to where Aichirou's clasping the wall, hands planted deep in his pockets, “Obviously.”

Aichirou splutters again. This time he kicks himself weakly towards the ladder leading out of the pool, dragging himself up and stumbling as his feet hit the concrete. He gasps as his legs shake, biting his lip as they twitch and shiver beneath him. Perhaps he'd overdone it a little...

“Be careful.” Rin's hands are hot and rough against his skin. Aichirou can't help but flush as Rin's hand slides around his waist, holding it as he presses Aichirou to his hard side, “Can you stand at all? How long were you swimming?”

A nervous giggle bursts from the shorter boy's throat without his permission, “Sorry! Sorry, senpai! I just need a moment!”

“You're shaking, Ai. Seriously, how long were you swimming? It's nearly 8:30!”

He jolts at that – yanking himself from Rin's tender grasp for long enough to collapse at his feet. He hadn't realised! He'd come out around 6, eager to work off some of his frustrations, hoping to give Rin some space. No wonder why his limbs felt like they want to drop off!

Rin's crouching by his shoulder, hand clasping it, holding him upright as blood rushes to Aichirou's head. He's an idiot! And now Rin has to watch as he struggled to even _stand,_ let alone _walk back to their room._ Ugh! How was this supposed to help his Rin relax?

“I lost track of time,” He eventually says, voice so quiet he's not sure if Rin even heard him.

“I bet.”

Rin rises to his feet. Aichirou can hear him as he strides away, heels dragging again. Aichirou can feel the flush to his cheeks worsen until he's sure he's the same colour as his room mate's hair. _Stupid._

“Here.”

Blinking big, sapphire eyes, Aichirou finds a towel thrust out to him and a rather annoyed Rin refusing to look at him. Aichirou knows that look though. The red head sometimes wore it when he was with his friends – when they were being teasing and insufferable and lovable. He's not really annoyed so much as attempting to keep seeming tough, despite the fluffiness of the towel and the way he waits patiently for Aichirou to take it.

The thought is barely finished forming in Aichirou's head when the towel is dumped on his head.

“Hurry up and dry yourself off.”

He does the best he can with his hands quaking. Rin watches him the entire time, scarlet eyes never leaving Aichirou for a moment as he drags the towel over slight muscles covered by soft, pale skin. He drapes the towel around his shoulders, hoping to discourage the water clinging to his hair from dripping down his back.

“I'm going to go get your jacket. You can shower and change back in the dorm. You should be able to stand by that stage then.”

The boy nods, lifting himself to his feet as he once again listens to Rin trudge over to the small bag of things he'd thrown over there. He wonders briefly about how Rin expects him to even reach the dorms in his current state. He worries a thumb between his white teeth, eyebrows turned in as he thinks and worries. Aichirou thinks he should definitely tell Rin to head back without him... 

He flinches away from the hot hand that's placed on his back. The same hand that grasps at him and curls around his waist as Rin's other wraps around his waist. Rin grumbles at him, easing Aichirou onto his feet and holding him to his side when he wobbles.

"C'mon, Ai." He says, "I'll help you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my first draft, so to speak, for the legs prompt. As you can see, it didn't really make the cut. 
> 
> BTW, still taking prompts~ Feel free to comment with some or hit my tumblr (lupisashes.tumblr.com) and send me an ask~ 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, m'luvs!


	6. NagiRei - Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Anon: "Reigisa, fingers! 030"
> 
>  **Warnings:** Heading into NSFW. Nothing explicit, but y’know.

It’s their third anniversary when Rei manages to surprise Nagisa.

Not to say that he hasn’t tried before, but Nagisa’s always had something else planned and despite his best efforts Rei can’t make himself mention his own plans when Nagisa’s so excited about telling him his. They’re good plans too, very well thought out, with diagrams sometimes (“because Rei-chan likes visual ques!”), so Rei doesn’t really mind. Sometimes. Nagisa tends to tone down his imagination for their big, important dates - something Rei is incredibly grateful for – but,  _toned down_ is just shy of _too much_ sometimes. And really, his boyfriend is just too much.

Rei can’t help but smile down at the strawberries he’s halving. It brings back fond memories of exasperation and the fluffiest, warmest of love as Nagisa cajoled him into joining him on the dance floor of one of the more expensive restaurants they’ve visited. With Rei’s arms curled around Nagisa’s thin shoulders, and Nagisa’s small hands around Rei’s waist, it had been an astonishing experience. Breath-taking in ways that Rei can’t really explain. It was the first time they’d been so, so  _open_ about their relationship. Yes, they’d told their parents a couple weeks before, but they’d not done anything that ‘proved’ it, so to speak. And then there they’d been, two boys in their final year of high school, slowly swaying to the sensual sounds of a saxophone and piano, and the husky voice of a female singer whose name always escapes him.

They’d only been out there for one song, but despite Rei’s initial embarrassment (“you didn’t tell me about this! I haven’t practiced!”), he can’t help the little laugh that bubbles up and out of him with the fondest of smiles.

The memory of the rest of their meal is quick to follow and Rei is forced to put down the little knife he’s holding as he tilts his head back, eyes shut, and attempts to relive the night; Nagisa’s sister worked there (though’d she’d been a simple runner and waitress then, she is now a notably memorable manager, if Rei’s short conversations with some of her staff the last time they’d visited were anything to go by), and had shimmied them to the front of the queue despite the months of advanced bookings. Regardless, the wait staff had given them odd looks, despairing of Nagisa’s still too loud voice despite the boy’s mostly sultry tone (or his attempt at one, anyway), and Nagisa’s conspiratorial stage whispers from behind their two foot tall menus. They’d had a very good night though. Good food, great service (even with Nagisa’s sister’s wide, knowing, expecting grins and winks when she’d delivered their platters and a bottle of wine as they’d left),  _fantastic_  company and overall, Rei had enjoyed himself.

It was a lovely night, the second of Nagisa’s Valentines Day surprises, and the warmth of that memory is still so fresh in his mind that it could have happened yesterday. That realisation makes him nervous all over again. It sends butterflies – thousands of them, it feels like – straight into his belly and makes Rei more determined to treat his lover to a night just as special. He knows Nagisa though. Knows that he expects  _certain things_ , since they’re home this year. Rei’s factored all these into his plans. 

It’s with that goal in mind that he turns violet eyes back down towards his prey. He glares down at the strawberries, their juices sticky on his long fingered hands, quickly running through his mental checklist as he takes up the paring knife again and effortlessly slices.

His mother had thought it was cute, how he’d practiced for this. Making her little snack packs for lunch, and slightly larger ones for his father straight after he’d remarked with a tiny frown that it wasn’t fair on his mother that Rei give her all his faulty attempts. It had been with barely a titter that they’d left him to his fate. Rei expects they’re sitting at his grandmother’s dining table right now. Mostly likely gossiping, or in his father’s case, awkwardly sitting there whilst his mother and grandmother threw theories of what else Rei had planned and how Nagisa would take it.

Rei had skipped dinner, his nerves making his stomach roil like the ocean during a storm, and had quickly set to making his treat as soon as the clock had chimed at 6pm. He is making something less nutritious, and rather disgustingly sweet; pancakes with syrup, chocolate, ice cream and strawberries – he carefully pushes them into a small bowl just as the thought finishes. He roughly chops up some walnuts and sets up a small saucer of cinnamon, before he cleans off the dining table, flings a pure white table cloth over it gracefully, falling like a the gentle crest of a wave as it stroked the beach.

The man then carefully arranges it. He has two candles, each of the little bowels and two large, cloth napkins tattooed with their initials in the bottom corner with purple and yellow thread. He reminds himself to remove the Transformer covered band aids from his fingers before Nagisa arrives, as he straightens them out, tugging on the flared end and straightening the band around their waists. One large plate for them to share is placed in the very centre of one side, one fork, one knife, several spoons of various sizes and lastly, he tugs two chairs to pressed tightly together by the table.

Rei’s standing back, admiring his handy work and contemplating where he put the matches when the door bell knocks him flat on his butt from surprise and he’s flailing to light the candles.

“One moment!” He calls, as he gives up and instead uses the gas lighter they use for the stove instead. Almost violently, he wrenches off the now stained apron, throwing it in the washing hamper, before he washes his hands and jogs to the front door, running a long fingered hand through his hair, and tugging on his shirt.

The look on his boyfriend’s face makes Rei’s insides melt then sizzle as he opens the door.

“Good afternoon, Rei-chan,” Nagisa says, softly, narrowing his eyes as he rakes them down, then back up Rei’s form.

Rei finds himself doing the same to the blonde, taking in the smart jacket and pants he’d worn, the light pink scarf curled snuggly around his neck, hiding his chin, the way he’d messed up his hair (done on purpose, Rei’s now learnt), and the long, red bag dangling from one of Nagisa’s smaller hands. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and his lips look dry, but his eyes are fond and Rei can’t help but smile whole-heartedly as Nagisa steps forward, remarking on his attire.

Rei turns the tiniest bit pink; he knows Nagisa loves it when he wears his clothes in a less than perfect way. As he’s put it in the past, “the disheveled look suits you. Makes me want to eat you right up. Would you let me, Rei-chan?” He’s itched to straighten his collar all evening, fingers finding their way to the waist band of his pants to tuck his white shirt in evenly, before he’s stopped himself. His blue hair, which he’d just been playing with, sticks up at all angles. Rei’s sure he looks like he’d slept in his clothes - even his slacks aren’t as starched as he prefers, and he’d opted to forgo his shoes entirely - but he can’t help but feel like he’s won with the look Nagisa’s sending him.

He admits Nagisa in with an admiring smile and chaste kiss, welcoming him and taking his coat. It’s chilly, though not as frightfully cold as it has been over the past few weeks and with removing it, Rei is treated to the sight of Nagisa in a shirt that’s form fitting in the best of ways. It’s a proper shirt, and whilst Nagisa is still slim he’s not as tiny as he used to be. It pulls in all the right places as Nagisa starts tugging on his scarf. Rei’s remark on the weather (a stupid attempt to not be distracted, he realises belatedly) is lost to a yelp as Nagisa effortlessly loops his pink scarf around Rei’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss nowhere near as pure as the one Rei had offered.

Arms and hands find their way all over each other’s body’s and it’s only Nagisa’s cool fingers skimming over his sides, under his shirt, that makes him wrench back and say very sternly, “No. No distractions. I have made dinner.”

Nagisa just giggles, dragging a hand down his front and leaning up for just  _one more_  kiss.

—-

Nagisa’s smile becomes blinding when Rei shows him into the kitchen. He hugs himself to Rei as the taller man slaps off the hall light, then tugs Rei enthusiastically over to the table and sits him down, laughing as he sits beside Rei with his legs bent over Rei’s knees. Rei pats a thigh fondly, giving it a squeeze and leaning in to peck at Nagisa’s lips, once, then twice (then maybe once more, just because), before he pushes them off his own and stands to collect the pancakes.

“These are my grandmother’s recipe.” He states proudly as he bends to lift them out of the oven, “She offered to teach me again, when I mentioned that I was in charge of this year’s Valentines Celebrations.”

“Oh? And how does grandmother’s pancakes differ to normal ones?” His pink eyes are sparkling, as Rei places the (obscenely) huge plate of pancakes near the centre of the table. He strokes a hand through his blonde hair, scooting back so Rei can sit down before he’s pressed tight against Rei’s side, one leg once again over his lap.

Rei’s face is completely serious when he answers, “We make them with love.”

—-

There’s easy conversation, giggling, smiles. They talk about Rei’s culinary skills and how they’re improving, about their classes, how their universities are treating them. They aren’t going to the same one, and it was necessity that’s not seen them move in together yet, like they’d planned. Rei ignores that Nagisa’s refusing to use the cutlery, then attempts to ignore that Nagisa’s slowly climbing into his lap, their good shirts (Nagisa’s is silk, if Rei’s not mistaken. Cream, with light blue stitching. It’s expensive and utterly ruined now that Nagisa’s got his fingers in the chocolate) are slowly being unbuttoned, one by one. Nagisa’s breathes his words straight into his ears, his breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh. Rei’s voice lowers with it, pressing his cheek to Nagisa’s and nuzzling their noses together as they take turns feeding each other from various bowls. 

“Niki got this for us,” Nagisa says, three pancakes into their meal, when Rei looks around for a drink and realises with sudden horror that he’d forgotten to purchase something for the occasion, “It’s the same one we shared last year.” He sings the last few words, winking, as he pops the cork from the wine bottle and sits it down carefully.

They’re sharing their third glass when the glass just touches Rei’s glistening lips, when warm and sticky slides up and over Rei’s collar bone. Rei doesn’t bother masking the moan that slides from his lips, his head falling back as Nagisa nips at his chest then follows the line of chocolate with his tongue. He’d been expecting this. He’s surprised Nagisa has behaved himself for this long. It takes a few moments, with Nagisa licking, sucking, humming and nipping along Rei’s collarbone and then up his neck, before Nagisa pulls away, looking hungrier than he has all night.

Rei attempts to ignore the innuendo Nagisa throws at him in the coming conversation. But soon, as Rei leans forward to take a strawberry, dips it in chocolate, then presses it to Nagisa’s lips, Rei can’t find it in himself to make the night last. The noises the blonde makes are obscene, making Rei’s already flushed face redden further, especially when Nagisa nips at the tips of his fingers in the way of a parting gift. He smirks up at him, tongue trailing along his lips, and Rei’s violet gaze catches on a smudge of chocolate at the corner of Nagisa’s sticky lips.

He gulps, turning and leaning in quickly to lick at the offending smudge. It’s sweet, then bitter, then Nagisa’s tongue has found his own and is following it back into Rei’s mouth as Rei finds his sitting back turn into leaning further forward. His hands finding their way into Nagisa’s soft hair and clutch at it, making Nagisa gasp into it. Their kiss is a long one, messy, with too much tongue, but Rei can taste the chocolate and strawberries and the  _love_  he’d put into his cooking thrown back at him with just as more force as he’d infused.

Nagisa’s hands can’t seem to find a place to grasp. Rei vaguely feels them at his sides, then skittering up his back, before Nagisa grasps at his shoulders, slides them down his arms… One is sliding up his now completely bare chest and around his neck when once again, warmth, gooey in all its glory is once again being smeared all over his chest.

When he wrenches away this time, they both gasp, lips pink and looking tender. From behind his askew glasses, Rei watches as Nagisa bites at his bottom lip, looking pleased with himself and the picture he’s created. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes at half mast and admiring,  _wanting_  - Rei could cry, he looks so beautiful. Even with his shirt almost hanging off one shoulder, untucked and stained with chocolate down the front, around the buttons.

“Rei-chan should see his face. Such a mess.” It’s with a quick, sly grin that Nagisa leans forward to  _lick_  at Rei’s cheek, his tongue lingering, dragging up and down before Rei catches Nagisa’s mouth just before he starts down his neck with his own. He nips at Nagisa’s lips, tugging on the bottom one, an action to mirror Nagisa’s own, before his larger hand closes around the wrist of Nagisa’s chocolate covered one (still smearing the stuff down his front; he’s just about reached his belly-button when he catches it).

He lifts it, eyes never leaving Nagisa’s as the blonde watches wraptly, eyes going wide when Rei’s mouth opens, tongue sliding up Nagisa’s index finger, collecting chocolate. He nips gently at the tips (he can learn, his violet eyes say, when Nagisa’s eyes widen further), then his mouth closes over three of Nagisa’s slim fingers. His tongue swipes over them, licking the chocolate away until his hands are more sticky with saliva than anything else.

Nagisa’s eyes are wide with wonder, excitement and surprise. Rei only blushes slightly – this is his first time doing anything like this, and he knows that Nagisa knows that. Nagisa’s attempted to help him be more forward, but he feels awkward when put on the spot, and tonight is special, for Nagisa, and he can stand to feel a little stupid if he makes his lover happy.

Nagisa’s shaky exhale is proof enough of that. Rei’s only heard those types of breaths when he’s nipped his way down the man’s torso, or when he’s tugged on the lobes of his ears after a particularly passionate round in bed.

Rei stands, fingers lingering over Nagisa’s as he steps away, sliding the shirt from his shoulders and letting it drop to the ground before he starts taking slow steps towards the door, hips swaying in a way he notices has Nagisa transfixed.

He’s seen this pose in magazines all the time – he’s  _practiced_  – so Rei’s confident when he draws a hand through his hair, letting the other hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants, stops at the door briefly and tosses over his bare shoulder,

“Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom?”

Nagisa’s only just leaning out of his seat, knee coming up onto the seat as he grasps at the back of one of the chairs to watch as Rei disappears around the door. It’s only then that Rei allows himself a bit of fumbling as his fingers seem to grow three sizes as he tugs at his belt and undoes the button and slows himself to  _seductively_  pull down the zipper, just as he hears the seat screech as Nagisa starts to stand.

He clears his throat and calls out in a voice he hopes is as deep and sensual as he sounds in the morning (another thing that Nagisa apparently loves), “Bring the wine.”

Then throws his pants in the middle of the doorway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine this is followed by them clambering up the stairs in a mad rush to get to Rei’s room before Nagisa tackles Rei. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Might have a second part. Maybe.~~


	7. MakoHaru - Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [astutescorpius](http://astutescorpius.tumblr.com) wanted MakoHaru. I've had this image stuck in my head for a bit.

"We need to go home."

"Hn."

Neither moves, even as the sun sinks slowly lower behind their school’s main building. 

Makoto sighs, his breath fanning out over Haru’s bared shoulder from where his cheek’s pressed to the side of Haru’s head. They’re in the pool, arms around each other, Makoto’s long legs wrapped loosely around Haru’s waist. They’re down the deep end. So much so that Haru’s toes barely touch the bottom of the pool. But that tip of toe keeps them locked place. 

They’re content though. Makoto doesn’t know how long they’ve been there, but he’s sure the way his hands are starting to wrinkle worse than dried prunes is a fair indication they’ve been in here long enough. 

He feels Haru press a chaste kiss to the side of his neck. He feels the way his lips, closed, cold, travel down to his own shoulder and simply rest there. It makes Makoto shiver, feeling the steady, almost sleepy slow breaths Haru breathes across his own broad shoulder. An equally crinkly hand smooths down his curved back, fingers tracing his spine before they go back to their place on his thigh. 

Makoto’s mother used to carry him everywhere when he was small. He was a shy boy, hiding behind her legs, hanging off her hips, teary face pressed to her thighs. That isn’t the case anymore. He’s too big, too bulky, and still growing despite being over six foot and in his final year of high school. But Haru’s holding him now, cradling him to him as though he weren’t taller and heavier and more likely to squash him. 

He’d crush Haru if it weren’t for the pool. He’s curled up, true, and it does do a number on his back eventually, but it’s nice for now. He likes the way Haru nuzzles into him, sometimes his neck, sometimes his chest (it all depends on how they’re floating). Makoto enjoys the way his hands trail over his cool skin under the water, how they smooth the cool water, refreshing with the summer humidity, over his shoulders and sometimes attempts to tame the wild mess his hair’s always in when he’s pulled his swim cap off and hasn’t submerged himself yet. He can feel Haru’s muscles twitch, pull and release against his skin, under his fingers. It's clearer than the water embracing them, he doesn’t need to open his eyes to imagine how they look as they work. It comforts him. He doesn’t need to worry about anything.

Haru is his life line here. The water is Haru’s greatest friend and she holds them both so easily. 

But, as always, they must head home. Makoto’s legs flex against Haru’s hips as he wiggles, his back giving a sharp twinge that has him flinching. He doesn’t want to go. Experience has taught him to not to ignore his back’s SOS though. Giving Haru’s hips a parting squeeze with his knees, Makoto lifts his head. 

He smiles at Haru, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek as he straightens up, feet finding the bottom of the pool. His hands find Haru’s. 

"Come on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the original version](http://lupisashes.tumblr.com/post/110686623193/makoharuuuuuuuu)
> 
> [still taking prompts!](http://lupisashes.tumblr.com/ask)


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